


A Bit of Clarity

by chwheeler



Category: Monsters Inc (2001), Monsters University (2013)
Genre: Gen, One Shot, Pre-Canon, School
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-28
Updated: 2013-06-28
Packaged: 2017-12-16 10:35:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/861073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chwheeler/pseuds/chwheeler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Randall had gone invisible – completely invisible – had been during his elementary school years. He hadn’t meant to do it; he didn’t even know he could. He hadn’t meant to do anything. He had only wanted to prevent himself from changing color, so the other kids would stop teasing him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Bit of Clarity

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Monsters Inc or any of the characters depicted in this work of fiction. I am not making any sort of profit from this fic. It was done purely for fun!
> 
> I'm not entirely sure what prompted this in my own head, because I wrote it fairly quickly and very easily. Which is very unusual for me! This is mostly unbeta'd, so all mistakes are wholly my own.
> 
> Thank you to Oscar, for both taking the time to read this and for thinking of a title! I am slightly in awe of your brilliance. You are the best friend a chwheeler can have!

The first time Randall had gone invisible – completely invisible – had been during his elementary school years. He hadn't meant to do it; he didn't even know he could. He hadn't meant to do anything. He had only wanted to prevent himself from changing color, so the other kids would stop teasing him. So they would leave him alone, for once. Everything on the playground had been a dusky orange….

“Hey! Lizard-brain! What color are you going to turn today, Lizard-brain?” A hard hand impacted with his shoulder. Startled, Randall dropped the colorful ball he had been holding in his upper hands. He watched it bounce away across the blacktop. “Well, huh? What color today? You know you wanna.” The hand of the beefy, green monster shoved against Randall’s shoulder for a second time. He vaguely recognized the assaulter as being from the year above.

As much as Randall fought it, he could feel his himself changing, slowly blending into the surrounding leaves. Kids quickly started gathering around. Blocked in and embarrassed, he could feel himself changing even faster. Laughter began to circulate through the gathered crowd.

Of course, Randall tried to remind himself, changing color was a perfectly natural defense mechanism. It even ran in his family. His parents had loved to watch him in his crib as a little baby monster, when he had not had any control over the reflex. His mother, who he had inherited his resting purple tone from, would stroke his brow or wiggle one of his twelve toes and watch with delight the waves of color that undulated across his skin.

As he got older and more of his noisy relatives chimed in with their opinions about the process, he learned to control it. It had taken practice, but he managed to settle his scaly skin. The only things that disrupted his concentration were stressful situations. Specifically, starts and injuries. His cousins had taken much delight in jumping out at him from behind corners, just so he’d turn all manner of colors and patterns. And Randall’s father would never let him forget when he had broken one of his legs after falling down a hill during a family get-together. He had turned such a grassy green from the pain that the paramedics had a hard time locating him when they arrived.

School only exacerbated the situation. Randall often found himself among the trees, trying to blend in as seamlessly as he could, wishing no one could or would see him.

“That’s a very pretty orange, Randall.” Randall dropped the leaf and watched it float serenely to the ground. It landed with a soft FOOF against the leaves gathered on the ground. Autumn was in full swing and the changing colors had always interested Randall. The school day had ended, so he had time to take a closer look. “Can you turn that color?”

Randall finally looked up from the leaves to the girl who was talking to him. He smiled politely, unused to this particular classmate speaking to him. The girl now talking was a pretty monster named Saliva. She wasn't the smartest monster in class, nor was she the most popular. She was spectacularly average and very nice. Everyone had agreed on this and it had the effect of Saliva being the kid that was generally ignored and almost forgotten about. Randall envied her of that.

“Can I see?” She smiled encouragingly, her three eyes shining against her gelatinous form.

“Uh, sure.” Cautiously, he glanced around to check that they were alone. The other kids didn't ignore him. They teased him mercilessly, at least the biggest and most popular   
of them did. They teased him for his small, gangly stature; for his overly large glasses; especially for his fright induced transmogrification.

He concentrated the way he had learned could control the process. As easily as changing by will could be, he felt orange. There wasn't really a way for him to describe how it felt. He just felt more… orange. Saliva yelped in glee, confirming his successful change.

“That’s so neat, Randall! Oh…” Randall and Saliva noticed the approaching teacher and an adult who appeared to the now slightly oozy girl. Randall could see the guilt painted on Saliva’s face. “That’s my mom.”

“Saliva, you are not supposed to be outside in this weather. Look, you’re oozing already.” Her mother grabbed her hand to lead her away. Ms Magoria, their teacher, looked sternly at Randall. Fighting the urge to go completely orange, he instead returned to his usual purple.

“Bye Randall.” Randall barely had time to wave before Saliva was gone. Ms Magoria waved before turning on him, tentacles on hips.

“Mr Boggs, what did I tell you about camouflaging during school hours?”

Randall kicked his feet and pushed the leaves around.

“Well?”

“It’s distracting to the learning process of the other children.”

“That’s right. Now, come inside to wait for one of your parents to arrive.” He watched Ms Magoria head back towards the building, lingering behind. He visually picked out the leaf on the ground, the one he was positive had been the same one that fell from his hands. It disintegrated with a satisfying CRUNCH underneath his foot.

“Pull his tail, Jeffrey!” Chants of ‘Fight! Fight! Fight!’ began to break out amongst the spectators. Randall deftly dodged the fists of the bigger boy flying at him. Swiftness was a distinct advantage of his stature, one that the bullies seemed to forget. He tried to slither his way underneath the legs of the surrounding circle, but another pair of arms yanked him back into the reach of the boy he now knew was named Jeffrey.

A foot, he wasn't sure whose, stamped on the end of his tail. He yelped and knew instinctively that he was now the grainy grey-black of schoolyard blacktop. The crowd whooped and hollered. They had succeeded. Randall wondered how the fight had even started. His teasing didn't usually escalate to this. The fists kept coming but Randall stayed down.

“Fight back, you fraidycat!” Randall ducked his head into his four arms, hoping to protect his glasses from a direct blow. A balled up fist made contact, knocking him sideways.

He fell for what seemed like ages, like it was happening in slow motion. With a hard THUD, Randall hit the ground and his glasses went flying. Randall tensed for another blow, but one didn't come. Instead, the crowd gasped. He squinted up at the crowd, but they weren't looking at him. Even through the blur, he could see their eyes passing over him.

“Where’d he go?” Murmurs passed through the confused crowd. Randall looked down at one of his hands, just as confused. It wasn't the same feeling as changing color, bleeding into his surroundings. It felt twice as powerful. Just as he couldn't explain the feeling of color, he couldn't explain what was happening with his hand in front of his face. He could both see his hand and not, simultaneously. His eyes only strayed from the fantastic sight when he noticed Jeffrey stomp over to the abandoned glasses.

“The little twerp left his big, dumb glasses.” Jeffrey lifted his oversized foot, ready to send it crashing down.

“No!” Randall leapt from the ground and tackled Jeffrey with all his force. The crowd screamed as he seemingly rematerialized before their eyes, the brief stint of invisibility done. His force was little match for the green terrorizer, but he did manage to knock him away from the fragile glasses.

“You’re such a freak, Boggs! Fraidycat Boggs can’t even stay for a fight, he has to disappear.” Jeffrey scrambled away, fuming, leaving Randall on the hard ground. The crowd dispersed, an uneasy air hovering over them. Randall tried to ignore the whispers of ‘stupid disappearing act’ that echoed from the other kids as they left.

Gingerly picking up the purple frames from the ground, he brushed the dirt off and placed them back on his face. The world cleared, save for a few scrapes and scratches on the glass. Ruminating on the sudden burst of invisibility, Randall walked back to the relative safety of the school building. He knew the others would find a way to use this invisibility thing against him. It would be worse than changing colors or wearing goofy glasses. Gut instinct told him that even though he could literally be invisible, he was now more than ever in the direct eye of his classmates.

As he reached the door, he stopped and inspected himself in the glass reflection. Concentrating, he watched himself vanish. Only the glasses gave it away, hanging in midair as though a ghost was wearing them. Shaking himself back into visibility, he glared at the reflection. It was a stupid ability and he felt stupid using it. Shoving the door open, he disappeared into the darkness of the school hallway.


End file.
